


Clouds and Stars

by merve



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy, i'm not sure what this is really, it's a mixture of fluff and angst and humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merve/pseuds/merve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has an obsession over clouds and stars and he is determined to hide why.</p>
<p>But John has to find it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't actually going to post this little ficlet here but lovely [Addi](http://addigni.tumblr.com/) made me so here it is. Enjoy! :D

 “What are you looking at?” John asked, he couldn’t hide the curious kid in his voice because the man who is being his flatmate who has put his arms over the window sill was looking up, fascinated.

Sherlock took his eyes away from the sky, hardly, and looked at John with full interest. His eyes were dull and looking for something to busy him, since the best case has come to him for over a month was a lost bunny, apparently. Sherlock sighed with the idea of not being so ‘detective’ these days. He blinked and turned back to window to let his lips curl with satisfaction, then sat on the floor to see better –whatever he was looking at. “Nothing.”

Of course, John didn’t believe. “You’ve been looking through that window for about fifteen minutes straight and didn’t even answer Mrs. Hudson when she came in to say that she’s brought our morning tea. You could have said ‘thank you’ at least.”

Sherlock didn’t look at John, probably didn’t even hear him. He only ran his long fingers in his hair and let these curls curl around them. John _loved_ when Sherlock did that, which made him sigh with the urge of doing it himself to him.

The funny thing was Sherlock didn’t even know about that time when John actually did touch his soft hair.

After a case, as always, they were back from Angelo’s. It was becoming a habit for them to go to dinner after solving puzzles or catching criminals, apparently solving crimes was making them hungry. Well, at least making John.

“Do you want a cuppa?” John had asked after a case as Sherlock had changed and let himself stretch on the couch. He had mumbled something as to say ‘yes’ and John had went to kitchen with a smile on his face because Sherlock looked just like a cat when he did that.

John had come with two cups in his hand to find Sherlock fell asleep. ‘Snow White’ John had thought and he was so right. With his pale skin under the white light and dark curls falling over his eyebrows, falling more as Sherlock moves a slim hand to his neck and hold there. Colours in a perfect harmony as blue dressing gown couldn’t hide his fit hips beneath the grey pyjama bottom.

John had left the cups on the coffee table to wake Snow White up but when he called his name and shook him softly, Sherlock had turned to face John without opening his eyes, probably still sleeping. John had held his shoulder this time and his fingers had brushed the curls on Sherlock’s nape. That time he hadn’t shook him because he was dazzled by the feeling, the same urge he was feeling every time Sherlock was touching his own hair. So he had run his fingers in the curls. Sherlock had made sounds of waking up, he had guessed, and had taken his hand away immediately right before Sherlock had could realise. “Tea?” he had asked to hide what he had done, feeling like guilty.

“Sherlock?” John asked one more time. “Can you hear me?”

No answer.

John sighed and stood up to see what Sherlock was on about and was actually surprised by what he saw. Nothing. Actually nothing. John sat next to him, since Sherlock saw him but still didn’t care. Following Sherlock’s focus, John matched his eyes with... clouds. “Are you watching the cl-?”

“No, what? What are you talking about?” Sherlock almost panicked. “Don’t be stupid, John.” He stood up and left John there with a confused baby face.

“Sherlock-”

“No, I don’t like clouds, John!”

John blinked a few seconds because Sherlock was over-overreacting. “I didn’t say you did.”

“Which is the quite right thing to do,” he stormed to his room and shut the door.

John stared after him, completely lost. There was something wrong. There was _definitely_ something wrong and John had to find it out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some realizations may come out ;)

“This is a situation related to one of his cases, I suppose.”

“Uh… No, Mycroft. I mean you could be right but I don’t know, this time he’s over-reacting senselessly. I haven’t seen him that panicked before. He didn’t even let me ask it, put words into my mouth,” John explained sounding almost worried.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Watson, I don’t have an idea on my brother’s behaviours or his obsession over clouds. Please let me know if you have the enough information.”

“Mycroft-” John had more to ask but Mycroft hang up.

_Ugh._

…

“Oh, I don’t know, dear. But he’s a bit aggressive these days, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Mrs. Hudson and that’s exactly why I’m asking about the clouds. Last day he was watching them, I am sure, and when I asked him, he just stood up and left the room, a bit offended, I guess.”

She thought about it a few seconds. “He’s Sherlock" she smiled with a shrug and John couldn’t say anything over that.

…

Sherlock was getting more passive aggressive each day, he was refusing to go out and acting like nothing was wrong as John was getting rather worried and curious. Whenever John came in to his room with a cup of tea he was acting like sleeping or playing his violin in the most tenor and insufferable tones just to make him get out, annoyed.

Of course he knew, he knew that John had asked Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft but he just couldn’t say it. It was so embarrassing for a detective and even more a  _sociopath_ like him to confess. Was that obsession making him a romantic, like John and his way of writing everything in a romantic way in his blog? Sherlock had made a lot of fun about John being romantic and he was being one? Ridiculous.

In fact, he wasn’t sure at all. Lovers seem to like watching clouds together, lie on the grass, cuddle. It was actually making Sherlock feel something warm around his chest but he wouldn’t smile, he’d try to hide his smile. He had to keep that cold face in the end, he was Sherlock.

It was two days ago before their are-you-looking-at-clouds argument had started. John was being  _himself_  again and had made Sherlock walk in the park, just to make him go out because Sherlock had been in for over a week.

“Idiotic,” Sherlock had said but actually he had quite liked it. Even the idea of him and John walking together had made him feel better. It was afternoon but Sherlock was just waken up and so John had went to buy them coffee from Costa around the corner.

And that was when Sherlock had seen those lovers watching the clouds. They had looked so  _happy_ and  _in love_ and so completely  _stupid_ but Sherlock hadn’t control his mind for a second and imagined himself with John lying there looking at each other after making clouds into objects and laughing at their own idiocy. He would close his eyes and John would lean and-

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock had opened his eyes to see John handing him his coffee with big bright blues eyes, a sweetly curled smile making him feel warm. His fingers had brushed Sherlock’s while giving it to him and Sherlock had almost felt the electricity there, but then he had understood there wasn’t something because John’s face was straight and calm and  _happy._ He had been happy that they’re sitting there doing nothing? However, Sherlock didn’t want it to end, he had wanted that day to last forever.

“There’s something on your hair-” John had leant to take the leaf has fallen onto Sherlock’s hair. The unnecessary heat on where John’s finger pads were touching his skull made Sherlock shiver softly. Somehow, the touch was familiar. He had realized his eyes were closed so he snapped them open with realisation.

_Oh no. I love John._

And whenever he was looking at the clouds it was making Sherlock remember that one time when John’s fingers were running between the curls and making him relax. He had loved that feeling at that time and loved to remember but he just couldn’t let John know about him. “Oh, hi John. I loved when you touched my hair and I want to lie on the grass with you to watch clouds.” Yes. Right.

…

John was determined about learning it. He was going to ask directly to him when he was going to get home tonight, he had thought about it all day but he needed to work until 8pm, unluckily. Actually, he had watched clouds in the lunch break and remembered Sherlock’s face while watching them.

As he walked up the stairs, he called for Sherlock to say he has brought Chinese but Sherlock wasn’t there. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, he even checked his own room where Sherlock didn’t actually go a lot but apparently he wasn’t at home. _Text,_ he decided. Sherlock’s phone vibrated blankly on the table, abandoned, under the papers scattered around.

Sherlock would never leave his phone at home. Ever.

John ran down the stairs and knocked on Mrs. Hudson’s door. She opened it slowly with a weird smile. “John?”

“Mrs. Hudson, I can’t find Sherlock anywhere. His phone is here but he’s not and he never leaves his phone. Did he say something about going out or..?”

Mrs. Hudson didn’t answer and looked apologetic. “Dear… He didn’t want me to tell you but-”

“Mrs. Hudson…”

She sighed. “He’s on the roof. It’s about a case, he said, but didn’t want you to meddle.”

John completely passed the ‘meddling’ part and took a deep breath with relief. “Thank you,” he said to go check on Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what do you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizations on the other side may come out as well :D

It was actually quite nice. John expected it to be cooler on the roof but it was warm enough, a bit pleasing even. He smiled when the soft wind caressed his face.

“John!”

John felt a hand on his wrist pulling him down. He fell onto his hips abruptly and found Sherlock’s hand lingering there as the madman kept looking up.

“Sherlock?!” he shouted in his whisper. “What’s going on? Why are we on the roof? Is this a case?”John drew near to Sherlock and reached his gun, in case if a criminal would jump in front of them?

Sherlock looked down on him with full adoration. “I knew it was going to work.”

“What?”

“She can’t hide it,” Sherlock chuckled. “I told her not to tell you and here you are.”

John’s eyes were wide and that confused expression. He blinked.

“No, it’s not about a case. Don’t be stupid,” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

The look on John’s face was angry, absolutely less pleased than a minute ago and surprisingly… amused. It took some to time to read his feelings; it was hard, Sherlock decided and turned his gaze up, on the sky again.

“Will you just tell me what this is about?” John relaxed his muscles and looked at Sherlock but couldn’t get any answer. He lifted his head to see Sherlock  _staring_ up with fascination, that look he saw on that  _I-don’t-like-clouds_ day, that  _I’m-hiding-something-but-I-am-just-going-to-act-like-nothing-is-wrong_ look.

Even it was a bit dark, John could see Sherlock’s bright eyes with the help of the street lights. They were like greyish-blue, bringing stormy seas to John’s mind and that could be just perfect to describe them. Shadows below his cheekbones were making them look sharper. It would look weird on someone else’s face but it was fitting Sherlock so well. As Sherlock swallowed, John’s eyes moved to pale neck of Sherlock’s and he remembered that time they were watching a movie and Sherlock had asked “Does it feel that good to let someone lick your neck? I mean it’s nothing more than disgusting. This supposed to be an action movie, John, why are they having sexual connection while there are explosions in the background? Could this be more idiotic?” and John had answered, slowly, “Yeah. It does feel good.”

And now he wanted to let Sherlock know how it actually felt. He wanted lean and tilt his head and-

“Stars.”

“Huh?” John shook his head as he woke up from the short period of time he daydreamed.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Sherlock was still looking up and this time he was letting John know about it, unlikely the clouds.

“I thought you didn’t care about them.” John felt like he was killing the magic there. As in the normal films, it didn’t went as John looking at him and saying ‘yes, they are’.

“I cared, John. I always did.”

John wasn’t expecting this answer, it wasn’t so Sherlock Holmes but it was so _Sherlock_. The one John had always thought who has the possibility to feel something but still, it felt weird anyway. One of those rare moments felt like Sherlock could actually feel, like he had emotions. John was surprised so bad by this, he realised his mouth was opened.

“I wanted to talk about the clouds, well, and stars too. This is the right time, I suppose.”

But John didn’t respond, he was looking at Sherlock with an unreadable face again which almost seemed like he was froze. The brunette was talking but John was dazzled by the thoughts so he couldn’t pay much attention. Sherlock could actually feel and maybe when h-they were sitting at the park, drinking their coffee, Sherlock’s soft moan, which was probably out of control and his consciousness, when John made an excuse to touch his hair was one of those rare moments. John knew that he _loved_  to touch Sherlock’s hair, he could play with those curls forever and ever. It was just, he always thought Sherlock was an unfeeling bastard -even he always told him not to be like that- but apparently Sherlock was actually having fun with watching clouds or stars. John realized he loved watching Sherlock fascinated by them. John realized he loved watching Sherlock. John realized he loved Sherlock.

_Oh, god. I love Sherlock._

“So that is the reason,” Sherlock finished and had the guts to look at John, finally. John let his breath go out of his lungs, slowly, but still wasn’t talking which made Sherlock worry.

Did he do it wrong?

Molly had said it could be a nice way to let John know about his feelings. “John?”

John stood up abruptly, a bit tottered. “Sherlock, I think I- I’m just gonna…” he took a deep breath. It felt bad that he didn’t listen to Sherlock but the overwhelmed emotions coming with realisations were too heavy to cope with when his mind was blurry. “I’m sorry. I gotta…” he ran downstairs without finishing his sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated deeply :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This chapter gets a bit more angsty but let's see what's gonna happen ;)

_Deny it. Deny it!_ That’s what John’s brain was telling him on the way of park. He didn’t even know why he was going there but he couldn’t control his body, his emotions were leading him to run faster. Finally he sat on the bench that he found an excuse to touch Sherlock’s hair.

 _No, deny it!_ He didn’t like Sherlock at all, why would he? All those experiments scattered on the kitchen table and body parts in the fridge, ridiculous fights over the littlest things, his weird interest over murder, his face full of joy at the crime scenes, pursuits in the middle of the nights, adrenaline rushing up their veins, his curly hair bouncing as they run along the streets of his precious London, his eyes when he looked at the clouds and stars, his eyes when he looked at John, his eyes,  _Sherlock himself._

John took a deep breath. Apparently that’s why. So he didn’t understand the point if he had to deny it. Was it because his sexuality?  Women were what he liked, not men. He had told almost everyone that he isn’t gay and was quite sure about it. And now he was telling himself that he loved Sherlock, which was valid as hell. The fact was he had  _never_ liked or had to urge to kiss a man’s neck so he knew he wasn’t bisexual. Was he Sherlock-sexual? Was there even a word like that?

 _Well yes,_ he decided,  _now there is._

…

Did he do it wrong?

Why John did left him there without even saying where or why he was going? Was that what they did? It wasn’t like that in those movies John was watching. It’s not that he expected John to react exactly like in the utterly stupid movies but you just wouldn’t leave him confused and completely lost.

Molly Hooper was in trouble.

_It was a bad idea to tell him like that, Molly. Life doesn’t go as it’s in the movies. SH_

His phone buzzed a few minutes later.

_Tell me what happened, Sherlock._

Sherlock didn’t reply, he just looked at the screen and kept telling himself unnecessary hopes were unnecessary and letting people know about his emotions were making their situation harder.

A thought hit his head like a hammer. What if John wanted to move out? What if he never wanted to see Sherlock again?

_Stupid. Stupid! STUPID!_

Why did he even listen to her? Why did he even think John would have feelings for him at the first place?

John was that kind of guy who was putting up with weird flatmates, standing up for people who cared about, wasn’t afraid to yell at things annoy him. He liked jumpers, was gorgeous as hell, carried an illegal firearm, probably could buy a crying kid a balloon, shoot not so very nice people that deserve it, told Sherlock a million times to stop being an unfeeling dickhead.

And now Sherlock was feeling but apparently it was too late.

He winced with the buzzing of his phone.

“What do you want?” he answered with a blurred and sensitive voice.

“Sherlock what did he-?” Molly cut off, “Are you crying?”

Sherlock moved his hands to his cheeks, then his eyes. Finger tips were wet and there were little breathy hiccups coming through his throat. “No,” he answered as a tear dropped down from his left eye. “Maybe. Yes.”

She was shocked as the time passed to wait for Sherlock to calm down. It was Molly’s turn to be calm and cool. “Now. Listen to me. Probably it’s a bit not good to talk this on phone but I will be away for some days so I think this is how we’re going to do this.” She took a deep breath. “Sherlock, you and John were meant for each other. I haven’t been sure as much as this time. You are a strong man. I am not telling you it’s a bad thing to cry, it’s totally fine but I don’t think there is a reason to cry, since it’s the first time I’m hearing you cry and sorry but it feels weird. Anyway, I want you to talk to John before writing scenarios in your head, okay? This seems like the best thing to do for now, I guess.”

It really was logical which Sherlock didn’t expect Molly to be able to think in this way, since she was too socially awkward. But there was still something in his mind to ask. “Why does it hurt this much?”

“Because it’s true.”

Sherlock blinked and hesitated. “This is from one of those stupid movies John has.”

“Yeah, okay, but it fits here perfectly.”

Sherlock snorted as he realised he was lucky that a  _friend_ like Molly was in his life. He wiped away his tears. The thing he wanted to say felt unfamiliar on his tongue. “T-thank you.

He could feel her smile over the phone. “Anytime,” she hung up.

But not now. He didn’t have the courage or energy yet to talk to John. Maybe after a sleep. A long sleep to clear his mind off of his feelings.


	5. Chapter 5

It was already dark when Sherlock straightened his spine from over experiments he’s been working on all day. He didn’t realize how hours went by, since it was too hard to concentrate and don’t let John penetrate in his mind, sneakily.

John should have been at home, it was almost nine. He opened the door to go in and talk to John, tell him everything because their situation was taking him off of his experiments, at least slowing him down. Somehow, busy Baker Street really quite, quite peaceful. And hateful.

Something was wrong about this picture.

Sherlock ran upstairs to find to John, to be sure that he’s fine because last time Baker Street was that quite was when Moriarty’s bomb had exploded in the apartment right across theirs.

The flat was _tidied._ Even it usually seemed messy, Sherlock knew were everything was but now it was too _clean_ and Sherlock knew John didn’t care about tidiness that much to clean every bit of the house. Was it Mrs. Hudson? No, it didn’t smell like her cleaning materials.

Sherlock saw two spots on the stairs as he walked nervously around the flat. They were red. Sherlock’s stomach twisted and he felt like he was going to throw out. Stairs were slipping under his feet as he ran up in the speed of light.

“John!” he shouted as he opened the roof’s door.

John was sitting on the four layered blanket bed with a few pillows around him. It was a bit windy; Sherlock felt his curls move along with. Candles’ fire was hardly staying alive but they had the street lights and they were enough to see John’s stupid grin. There were two glasses and a bottle of wine in a tray. _Oh,_ Sherlock let out a realization breath.

“Sherlock,” John said. “Lie down with me.”

Sherlock swallowed. They weren’t actually going to lie exactly, the pillows under John’s were leaned against the short wall. John wanted to lie. Under the stars. With _him_.

It could be easier maybe, Sherlock thought, to let John know about his feelings when they were closer. He slowly walked to him and lay on the blankets; put his head on the pillow John had set for him.

It was quite relaxing but staying, _laying_ , right next to the man he loved was the actual meaning of nervousness. But he was curious and had a lot of questions in mind and unluckily, he wasn’t a patient one. “Why is the flat clean?”

“Because I cleaned it. I know you don’t like dust so...”

Sherlock was surprised. John had _never_ dusted before, especially for Sherlock. They were not going to talk about that, no. Useless hopes are useless. Even Sherlock was dying to tell John that he loved him, he realized it was rather hard than he thought it would be. So he shut up and squinted his eyes as he looked up.

“It’s hard to see them,” John smiled as he handed Sherlock a glass of wine. He looked at Sherlock as if he was waiting for him to agree.

Sherlock took a sip. It was an expensive one. “Yes, it is.”

“It could be nice if the city lights were out.”

Suddenly, the whole street was buried in dark. Lights went off one by one. Sherlock abruptly got up, almost breaking the glass as he tried to put it o the floor, to see the last one on the street went dead. He looked at John with a quick turn. He was smiling. “John?”

Now the little fires on the candles were only things letting Sherlock see John’s cobalt blue eyes. John was aware of what the hell was going on. Sherlock didn’t know, he didn’t like not knowing. The stupid grin grew bigger.

“John what the-?”

The man, who’s still laying comfortably, opened his arms as if to say ‘come here’ and he seemed a bit nervous. So was Sherlock, so it was making that act a bit awkward. He didn’t even know how to _hug_ , he’d never needed to know.

He slowly walked and lied on John’s straight arm but they were still far from cuddling. Now, what was he going to do? Should he put his arm over John’s stomach? Should they be closer a bit? Was John planning to wrap his arm around him if he’d turned to John?

“You’re thinking too much.”

A normal person would ask “huh?” while waking up from the questions stuck in mind but he was Sherlock and he knew that John knew he was trying to figure out how to bloody cuddle!

John pulled Sherlock closer and automatically, Sherlock found his arm around John’s waist. A soothing hand was moving in his curls.

“Look up.”

Sherlock took his breaths under control and slowly turned his head slowly to join John. They were shining beautifully and Sherlock had never seen them this bright, right in the middle of London, in Baker Street. It was like a dream and John was making him live it.

Sherlock wasn’t talking and John was the only one to break the uncomfortable silence. “You’re a bit lucky though, you can see the clouds as well.”

“Why?”

John hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t control the weather, do I?”

“No,” Sherlock chuckled. This little joke was relaxing so he moved closer, looked at John without lifting his head, so their faces were too close. He could hear John’s heavy breaths hiding under his cool face.

Sherlock set his voice to mean the thing he was going to ask, so John would answer properly. _“Why?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this will have one more chapter and I'll be done with the first fic that I'll ever get to finish :D  
> Please let me know what do you think :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know how this is going to end though :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, sorry, I had to update a few days ago. There you go :)

“Because,” John said and leaned closer to Sherlock, “I had a hypothesis, and then I learned why do you like clouds and stars.” He tilted his head a bit and closed his eyes.

“Yes,” Sherlock stopped him. “Because I told you the reason.”

John opened his eyes and frowned. “No, you didn’t.” At least he didn’t remember but if Sherlock would say why, he would remember that kind of an important thing, wouldn’t he? Or maybe he told it in a Sherlockian way and John didn’t get it as always until he said exactly what he meant?

“I did, and then you ran downstairs. When I looked around the flat, you were gone. I thought you didn’t like the way I thought about us.” Sherlock leaned on his elbow to straighten up and turn his face away. His longs fingers were gripping his own thin waist, eyes still looking up. But not fascinated this time, they were cold and _sad._

John could feel something inside Sherlock’s heart was broken, he almost heard it. Because of an emotional breakdown John was living, he had made everything worse. Just once, he didn’t listen to Sherlock for just once and now everything was going worse. A deep breath left the stupid man’s lungs as he collapsed on the pillows and started chuckling.

“What?” Sherlock asked, annoyed.

Sherlock,” John said and sat up to look at Sherlock in the eyes. “I was having a crisis about my sexuality which was why I left without listening.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened. “Without listening?” he echoed.

“Yes, sorry, but now I’ve figured it out.” _Sherlock-sexual._

I was a confession for John and when Sherlock realized it was too hard for him to figure out what he was, he gave him an odd smile which meant ‘appreciation’ in Sherlockian. The fact was, Sherlock didn’t want to label himself, he didn’t want or neither needed limits so he never thought about figuring out his sexuality. An urge of trying to change the subject penetrated his mind like a riot. So he just stayed quiet, until he asked “How did you learn?”

“Well, it’s a bit interesting, to be honest. It started the day when I met you-”

“No,” Sherlock cut him off. “I meant how did you understand that I had an obsession on sky’s beauties?” It was a weird sentence for Sherlock to use because he wrinkled his nose after saying that, not believing what has just come out of his mouth.

“Mycroft.”

“Bugger.”

A new wave of fresh giggles from of both of them made John sit and scoot next to Sherlock. The brunette was refusing to look at him, already blushing so hard. Only the proximity of their bodies was making Sherlock’s palms sweat. John’s face was getting closer as every inch felt like a century.

“Sherlock,” he said. “Look at me.”

He didn’t. He couldn’t. “I can’t.”

Empathy. That’s what was going between them at that moment. Sherlock could understand John’s desperation of having Sherlock and John could understand Sherlock’s fears, hopes and dreams, all at once. “I know, the feelings are a bit over-whelming right now. I am feeling the same, believe me. Like a _bloody teenager,”_ John snorted.

“Yes,” the pale skinned man said with rose-coloured cheeks and turned his face fully to the man he loved to stare at his cobalt blue eyes. A fearful, wishful, desperate sigh let him say “John-”

And that was the moment when Sherlock’s mind palace was breaking down as the books on the bookshelves of information were on fire, rooms of thoughts were under water, submerged, emotions were the only things that could survive from the heat of John’s lips, Sherlock though; but when a hand hold on to the back of his nape and soft moan travelled from John’s mouth to Sherlock’s, the mind-blowing first kiss was deepened. When their tongues met, Sherlock shivered and hold John’s face, pulling him closer, wanting more, tasting and feeling the texture of what he needed for the last couple of weeks, years, for the rest of his life.

Sherlock opened his eyes to find himself lying on the pillows and John lying on him. They were both panting hard, feeling each other’s warm breaths on their lips.

“I love you.”

“Obviously, I love you, too.”

...

It wasn’t comfortable or warm at all but Sherlock was happy that they had spent the night there, somehow it felt good to wake up in a giddy haze. It was about to be the time of dawn and it never felt so peaceful. He hardly took his hand off of John’s bare chest and tried to reach to his phone under his black shirt (maybe his trousers?) next to their ridiculous blanket-bed with a big effort of not waking John up. Because maybe he’d think that Sherlock was uncomfortable with his arm under the dark curls, but no, he was really fine. So _extremely_ fine when his obsession had made his man _his_.

_Hopefully you didn’t watch the rest of the show when John started to unbutton my shirt. –SH_

_No. –MH_

_I could have a heart attack last night, I still have the possibility. I hate you. –SH_

_You’re welcome, dear brother. –MH_

Sherlock smiled, tossed the phone on John’s fluffy jumper and wanted to go back to watching John sleep but he was already awake. “You’re lucky” he yawned as his eyes were looking up. “Clouds seem nice at dawn, almost pink.”

“I don’t need them anymore,” Sherlock said and rolled onto him with a cheeky smile on his face.

"Oh yeah?"

Yes," Sherlock kissed him messily. “I have a new obsession.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really fun to write! Thank you for reading and all those kudos <3

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to let me know what do you think :)
> 
> You can find me [here](http://theclassyhuman.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
